


great minds think (about decolonizing nations built on imperialism) alike

by theformerone



Series: erik stevens, prince of wakanda [4]
Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Erik and Nakia plan The Revolution, Gen, T’Challa might have a heart attack, the Revolutionary ABC? More like the Revolutionary BROTP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-03-28 03:57:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13895745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theformerone/pseuds/theformerone
Summary: Erik and Nakia get on like a house on fire.In hindsight, T'Challa probably should have seen it coming.





	great minds think (about decolonizing nations built on imperialism) alike

Nakia first meets Erik when he's ten and she's ten, and he's a complete brat. He's really mean for no reason. Nakia is tempted to say something to her mother about him; after all, for all intents and purposes, she is a princess. She's only ten, but she comes to the conclusion that if Erik ever challenges T'Challa for the throne and wins, she will challenge Erik, and she will kick his  _butt_. 

Anyone who can look T'Challa in the face and be rude to him doesn't deserve to wear the panther habit. 

* * *

Nakia meets Erik again when she is fourteen. She is in the pridelands with her mother. Nakia has always been fond of animals, so when her mother goes off to attend to tribal business with Themba and Nofoto, Nakia walks herself to the preserve. She wants to feed one of the lion cubs, if they are still allowed to be hand reared. 

She arrives to find Erik playing tug of war with a cub. It's - startling to say the least. 

He's laughing, which is something Nakia never thought she would see him do. He had always had such an awful attitude, the small handful of times she met him. But she has not spent her days in the Golden City; she has responsibilities in the river lands. She is training to become a spy, a War Dog, and that training does not always occur in the capitol the way the Dora's training does. 

He looks up, because he must feel her eyes on him. And then he  _waves_ at her. Nakia, too surprised to do anything else, waves back. He waves again, this time beckoning her to join him. Nakia knows the way into the enclosure and after a moment of hesitation, she joins him. 

A worker is in the enclosure with Erik, carefully watching over his interactions with the cub. When Nakia gets closer, she can see the warped tissue on one of his hind legs. A permanent resident, then. Plenty of animals were rehabilitated in the preserve and then sent back out, but some who would not survive in the wild were allowed to live out their natural lives on Wakandan soil. 

"Hey," he says. "Nakia. It's been a minute."

He's smiling at her. That's - off putting. Not because he doesn't have a nice smile, but because when they were ten, Erik seemed only capable of looking indifferent or enraged. 

"This is Jama," Erik says, gesturing to the cub he's playing with. "You met him before?" 

She shakes her head. She's met cubs from other litters, ones that were eventually relocated, but not this one with the bad back leg. 

"C'mere," Erik says, nodding his head towards the rope that the cub is gnawing on. "He's really playful."

Nakia looks to the caretaker in the enclosure for guidance. She nods lightly, and Nakia makes her way over to Erik. She stays a little bit behind him, aware of the way Jama's eyes track her every movement. He's intelligent in the way that all animals are. He's only half a wild thing, bottle fed because of his small size. Likely a runt. 

"How long have you known him?" she asks. 

She notices then, the red cloth tied neatly around Erik's head. Beneath it, she can see the outline of stubby locks. She looks from his head to his hip, where a khopesh sits. Her eyes widen; Erik? Mean Erik from her childhood was a member of Sekhmet's order? Or at least an initiate? 

"About a year," Erik says, answering her question. "My auntie Esihle let me feed him once, when I first came here. After that, it was a wrap." 

Nakia nods, feeling vaguely lightheaded. Clearly she has spent very little time at the capitol. Erik used to hate being reminded that he was among Wakandans in Wakanda. Now he's proudly claiming his blood connection to Esihle, sister of the queen, his aunt.

"And do you spend time with him often?" she asks, jumping a little when the half grown cub lets out a snarl before chomping down on the rope.

"Between my lessons, yeah, when I can," he replies. "Lions are Sekhmet's patron, so nobody has a problem with me coming around as often as I do. What are you around here for?"

It's not an accusation. It's just a question. Curious and kind. Nakia couldn't hear a shred of malice in his voice even if she wanted to.

"My mother," she explains. "She has business with Themba and Nofoto."

"Ah yeah, you're from the river provinces," Erik says, nodding as if to remind himself. "There's some problems with the aqueducts here, that's probably why."

"The aqueducts?"

"Yeah, the ones behind Sekhmet's temple."

Nakia nods as if she knows what he's talking about. She's seen almost all of Wakanda because of her status, and even if she wasn't technically a princess, it's likely she would have traveled all of their quiet little country by foot if she wanted. 

But Nakia and her people, they worship water. Yemoja is their mother, their provider, and their protector. And though Yemoja is their principal goddess, her many daughters and sons still have places on the altars of the people of the river provinces. Nakia knows the names of the other gods who bless Wakanda, but she does not know their rituals, because why would she need to? 

The only one she truly needs to know, is the coronation process of new kings. Baast was a woman, and that was enough to gain her a measure of respect from Yemoja and her many daughters, Oshun in particular. Of course a people that venerated women as much as Nakia's did would find no issue in following a goddess who reigned in justice, with tooth and blood. 

So Nakia has never seen the aqueducts behind Sekhmet's temple. She's never needed to. She is religious to a degree, but not by so much that she would stay in Wakanda to pursue a stronger relationship with her pantheon. Her heart is in the world outside of Wakanda; she is lucky that her mother understands, and that her father is so encouraging. 

Jama gets bored with the tug of war and drops the rope in his mouth to go leap on the jungle gym left for the cubs. Erik drops the rope and dusts his hands off on his trousers, keeping an eye on the cub as he plays. 

"How long have you been in the initiation process?" she asks, hoping to make conversation. 

Erik shrugs a shoulder and says, "A little less than a year."

Nakia nods, foot absently kicking up a little dust. She isn't sure how to talk to this kind Erik, this - surprisingly well adjusted one. He plays with disabled lions for goodness sake, but he used to be terribly mean to T'Challa. 

It has been four years since she last spoke to him, so she supposes that it makes sense that he's grown up so much. He's wearing the colors of Wakanda, he eats their food, he speaks their language. Only now, it does not seem to burden him. Now, he seems light with the weight of his responsibility as a prince. Or even as a citizen. 

"You should come to the provinces sometime," she says, surprised by how much she means it. 

Erik looks at her, an eyebrow raised at the offer. 

"If you think you like the lions here in the preserve," she continues, a little grin on her face, "you will love the leopards that visit our watering holes."

Erik smiles right back at her, looking almost hesitant himself. He must remember, too, how rude he had been when they were younger. But Nakia wants to be a diplomat, and peace offerings must be made before friendship can begin. 

And besides, this Erik seems good. The acolytes of Sekhmet's order would not let someone unworthy within their fold. Even if Nakia has been fooled by his kindness to the cub Jama, she knows what it takes for those who work in Yemoja's name, or Oshun's, to be worthy of doing their work on earth. Sekhmet was a healer, yes, but she was a warrior as well. If she liked Erik, then Erik could probably be trusted. 

He nods at her, still smiling. 

"I'mma take you up on that."

At that same moment, several hundreds of miles away, a shiver runs up T'Challa's spine. He can't place his finger on why he is stricken with such a sudden chill, but he shrugs it off. Which in hindsight, is probably a bad idea. 

* * *

Erik comes to the provinces several times throughout his training at Sekhmet's temple. Nakia's family welcomes him, because it is always an honor to have a prince among the people. 

He is curious, which is good, because there is always much to learn. Nakia teaches him how to politely acknowledge to the Orishas despite them not having his allegiance. She teaches him how to crawl on his belly like the leopards do, to hide beneath lush bushes that hide their scents so that they can watch the leopards drink from the many rivers that bisect the land. 

He is funny. He has a decent sense of humor, and he knows how to fight. Nakia challenges him to a spar on a whim, and he leaps at the opportunity. 

He is clever in battle, terrifyingly so. Nakia is just as smart, and he knows it. He tries to use his khopesh's curved edge to keep her at bay, and it is true that she has never fought against such a weapon, but Nakia is not training to be a War Dog so that she can wear pretty dresses and sip American cocktails. Her ida is double edged and peppered as a precaution, and every strike Erik attempts to land is parried neatly. 

They're evenly matched, which excites them to no end. They spar for hours at a time until one of them must yield from exhaustion. They are never embarrassed to do so; they are marvelously fast friends. Their wit is the same, their quickness of the same speed, and their tastes are largely similar. It is no wonder then, when Erik arrives for a weekend trip in the borderlands with a book under his arm, that Nakia immediately recognizes and snatches out of his hand. 

"What do you know about Assata Shakur?" she asks dubiously, flipping through the pages of the woman's autobiography. 

The copy is dog-eared, full of highlighted pages, and there are notes scribbled in the margins. Certain words or phrases are circled several times, or underlined. It's a well worn, well loved book. And it's one of Nakia's favorites. 

"About as much as you know," he says, plucking the book out of her hands and snapping it shut. 

She cocks her head at him, smirking at his attitude, and he smirks right back at her. 

"You died," Nakia says, reciting. "I cried. And kept getting on up."

"A little slower," Erik returns, "and a lot more deadly."

Nakia's smirk becomes a full grin, and she drops her hands on her hips to say, "It is our duty to fight for our freedom. It is our duty to win."

"We must love each other, and support each other. We have nothing to lose but our chains."

She points her finger at him, and circles him. Erik rolls his eyes but his gaze tracks her. This time, he is the first to speak. 

"Dreams and reality are opposites," he begins. 

"Action synthesizes them," Nakia finishes. 

Erik rolls his shoulders. Nakia stops circling him. She can tell from the way he squares his feet that the next one is a test of some kind. She doesn't have the whole of the book memorized, but the pieces that sing to her are the ones that made her want to be a War Dog in the first place. She knows that with Erik, there is no wrong answer. There are only avenues that open up the opportunities to ask more questions. 

Still, she can't help the subtle twinge of worry in her stomach that comes when he opens his mouth. 

"People get used to anything," he says, recalling the quote slowly. "The less you think about your oppression, the more your tolerance for it grows. After a while, people think oppression is the normal state of things."

Nakia licks her lips before she answers; she knows this one. 

"But to become free, you have to be acutely aware of being a slave."

Erik relaxes visibly at her answer, and Nakia relaxes in turn. 

"Look at you," he says. "All down with the movement."

She scoffs, sitting down. 

"I'm going to be a War Dog, Erik," she replies. "I have to be."

Something in Erik flickers, like a door that's caught between opening wider and shutting. Nakia wonders if she's just made a terrible mistake. N'Jobu, his father was a War Dog. And the only reason Erik even has Assata Shakur's autobiography is probably because of his father in the first place. Nakia had it because it was required reading for her classes on Black Americans, and she loved it. 

But Erik's life was one of the ones she was dissecting and trying to understand in her courses. The movement - it was something completely different for him than it was for her. She's aware of this all at once, and awfully too late. 

"Erik," she says, feeling guilty as soon as she says it. "I'm sorry."

He shrugs, like he's shaking the emotion -his or hers- off his shoulders. He takes a seat beside her, hands carefully running over the glossy cover of the book. 

"Nah, don't be," he replies. "There's a lot of War Dogs that aren't."

He bumps her shoulder against hers, a rare show of affection from him. He's not all the way comfortable with her yet, not the way he is with T'Challa or with others in the pridelands. But Nakia feels better after the brief physical contact, if only because he's accepted her apology. 

"It's nice to have an ally," Erik says. 

Nakia lifts an eyebrow. 

"What do you mean?"

He scoffs, lifting the book in his hands so she can see the black and white photograph of Assata Shakur staring back at her. 

"Nobody who reads this book," he says, "can think isolationism is a good idea."

Nakia's jaw drops, if only so that she does not stumble over her own teeth when she blurts, "Wakanda would be the shame of us all, the moment we announced ourselves on the world stage."

Erik lets out a low whistle, and Nakia feels encouraged. 

"We rehabilitate shot lions and rhinos and leopards," she says, "but we cannot offer medical or economic aid to the nations that flank us? To our cousins in Brazil, or America, or even here on our same soil?"

Erik looks at her like she's grown a second head. Nakia purses her lips, refuses the urge to cover her hand with her mouth. She hasn't said anything wrong. And she knows she's one of the only people who think this way. 

Wakanda has been a land unto itself for longer than she's been alive, longer than her parents and grandparents have been alive. But there is an entire world outside that would benefit from their advances in technology, and their economic strength. Entire nations that have been dogged by colonialism and imperialism. Nations, that if given a gentle nudge in the right direction, could realize their own potential on their own merits on their own terms. 

She's about to open her mouth to tell Erik she doesn't feel sorry for what she's said, and that she knows in her heart she is right, and that despite the fact that he is a prince of Wakanda, and he might be king one day, she will never hesitate to tell him her honest opinion, because one day she will be on his Council of Elders, and he will need her opinion whether he likes it or not. 

She can't say all of it because Erik opens his mouth and replies, "We could reverse colonialism if we wanted to."

Nakia makes a face that probably shouldn't be made in front of royalty. Then again, she is royalty. She can make the face if she wants to. 

Erik barks out a laugh, then shakes his head. 

"Nah, that isn't what I meant," he says, backtracking. "We could reverse its effects. We could help put the disenfranchised nations that we  _share soil with_ in charge of their own resources. You know Haiti got forced to pay reparations for having a revolution? To  _France_?"

Nakia's hands fly into the air to illustrate her frustration. 

"Yes! We absolutely could!" she replies. "In less than one generation, we could do it."

"And why don't we?" Erik asks. "Because we 'must protect our own interests'? What interests do we have that exclude the  _entire world_ , Nakia?"

"It's fear," she says, snapping quickly to answer. "Fear that we will be taken advantage of, or run into the ground. We used to isolate to protect ourselves. And it made sense when Europe decided that Africa was their God given right to plunder. But now? Today?"

She shakes her head, suddenly reminded of the ways in which her instructors would shoot her down in debates when she asked questions about the merit of such a system. Why less than a day's ride on horseback away, children were dying from lack of food or water. Completely preventable illnesses were killing their cousins. Wakanda had cures for cancer, for AIDS, and yet they would not share them. 

"Today, we could defend the entirety of the continent," Nakia spits. "And we do nothing instead."

"Nakia."

She turns to look at him, and Erik has a somber look on his face. 

"I know this is sudden, but I think we should get married."

Her face must be something awful, because he bursts out laughing. She isn't long to follow. She reaches out, slapping his arm, and he rolls with the little shove that comes with it. 

"Nah for real," he says. "If you and me were running Wakanda, it'd be a whole other ball game."

She rolls her eyes and gets to her feet. 

"Ask me again when I'm of marrying age," she says, offering him her hand. "I've already got too many offers to turn down."

Erik takes her palm and she helps him to standing. 

"But I will think about it," she says, wiping her hands off on her wrap skirt. "I would make an excellent queen."

She looks at him, an eyebrow raised. 

"It is too bad you would not."

The admission makes his jaw drop, and Nakia is free to laugh at  _him_ this time. 

* * *

Nakia and Erik are friends. Best friends. And they are going to give T'Challa a heart attack.

When they are seventeen and Erik has returned from his long training in Sekhmet's order, T'Challa is initially very happy to see him. He's glad to have his cousin back around the palace for the full year. Of course he will occasionally go back to the pridelands as T'Challa's mother does, for the festivals and holy days. But his friend, his cousin, his brother is back and he's got so much to tell him. 

Which would be fine. If Nakia was not now also a semi-permanent fixture in the palace. 

T'Challa knows, logically, that Nakia's increased activity in the Golden City is not explicitly because of Erik. He's known Nakia since he was very little, knows she's wanted to be a War Dog since they could walk. Her training is advancing in difficulty now that she's almost reached adulthood by Wakandan standards. She won't be training like one of the Dora, but her regimen will be just as fierce, and most of it will take place in the capitol. 

Which would be fine. If seeing her did not make T'Challa's brain literally short circuit. 

She's beautiful. And what's more, she's intelligent, and funny, and she can beat him seven times out of ten in a fight. He thinks of the fond way his father talks about how his mother beat him in their betrothal fight, and T'Challa wants nothing more than that same memory. He thinks of the baskets and blankets he will weave for Nakia's family, and he wonders if she will catch a net full of fish for the betrothal feast, or if she will make them jewelry from cowry shells. 

He's probably thought about it a little too much. Which would be fine. If she and Erik weren't always attached at the hip. 

T'Challa isn't generally a jealous person. He wasn't raised in an environment that would foster that emotion in him; his needs have always been met. He's never had a reason to want for something that somebody else has. And what is more, Nakia is not a thing. She is a person, a woman of Wakanda. She can spend time with whomever she chooses to spend her time. She doesn't owe him anything just because he likes her. 

But he can't help but wonder what it is about Erik that makes her spend so much of her time with him. She spends time with T'Challa, too, but she also spends her time with Okoye and W'Kabi. They're all of a similar age, and they're all pretty important. W'Kabi is more or less a prince of the plains. Okoye is being groomed for a high leadership position in the Dora. It's likely that they'll all end up being lifelong allies, that they'll argue over the state of the nation during meetings of the Council of Elders. 

But it's clear she's got a lot of affection for Erik. Their heads are always bent together, whispering fervently about one thing or another, talking with loud gesticulations of their hands, and quieting whenever T'Challa or W'Kabi or Okoye try to join the conversation. They look like they have a secret. Like they're close. Close in a way Nakia and T'Challa very much aren't. 

He isn't sure how to bring it up. He isn't really sure if he wants to. Erik, because he is of course, himself, brings it up for him. 

"Why you out here lookin' like a kicked puppy, man?" Erik asks, his hand dropping onto Jama's shoulder. 

T'Challa is not sure how exactly Erik managed to convince his parents and, well,  _everyone else_ in charge of the safety of the Golden City to let his pet lion live in the capitol. Jama had more or less 'imprinted' on Erik when he was a cub, and he apparently had terrible anxiety when Erik had left the pridelands. 

T'Challa's aunt Esihle had been a strange combination of livid and proud when she realized Jama would not eat because Erik was away, and not because he was physically ill. 

"No reason," T'Challa replies, feeling caught off guard.

Erik has always been perceptive, but he usually isn't so quick to call someone out in public. They're in the lab Shuri has claimed as her own. She had brought them down there because she was trying to figure out a way to fix Jama's bad leg, but had easily gotten distracted by - something she probably should not have been allowed access to. 

It was nigh impossible to deny Shuri anything. Not because she was so cute, or because she was a princess. But because she would get what she wanted before you finished telling her she was not allowed to have it.

"So you are a kicked puppy," Erik says, rubbing Jama's ears affectionately. 

"I'm not a puppy at all."

Shuri snorts. Loudly. T'Challa wonders what he deserved to have a little sister like her. 

"Yeah," Erik replies. "You're a panther. But you've been uptight these past couple of days. What's going on? It's not like you."

T'Challa wonders how embarrassing it would be to find out that his cousin is dating the girl he's liked for the past forever while Shuri is listening. He's sure his kimoyo beads would record the massive spike in his heart rate. 

He huffs out a breath. Erik is one of his best friends. He can - well, he should be able to trust him with anything. Shuri will make fun of him for doing literally anything. But Erik is like Ramonda; he'll only tease T'Challa if he deserves it.

"It's about Nakia," he says, and Baast above, it feels like one of those awful confessions in teen romantic comedies. 

"What a surprise," Shuri says, merciless as she always is. 

He shoots a look at her, but Erik only nods. 

"Oh," he says. 

"Oh what?" 

Erik grins a little bit, then laughs. Jama begins trying to climb his body, placing his big furry paws on Erik's shoulders.

"You think me and Nakia -?" 

T'Challa rubs a hand over his face and tries not to feel mortified. 

“Nakia is a lesbian.”

T'Challa drops his hand off his face. He still feels a little mortified.

”What? Really?”

Erik shrugs, like this is old information and T'Challa is very bad at keeping up. 

"Maybe. She's not sure yet."

T'Challa needs to have a seat. It wasn't - It wasn't strange for women to like women, or men, or both. Wakanda was an isolationist country; if it had a problem with the way its people chose to love, it would have toppled on itself generations ago. 

Still, it's not information he's had on Nakia. And while the fact that she likes girls is a surprise, the idea that she might like boys to is absurdly exciting. He won't press, he knows he won't. But if there's a chance for them to - maybe, if there was a mutual attraction, then perhaps - 

"Why are you telling me?" he asks his cousin. 

Erik scratches the back of his head, carefully lifting the mostly grown lion off of his shoulders and dumping the cat onto the floor. 

"She's not exactly shy about it," he replies. ”Why are you so sprung on Nakia when W’Kabi has been feeling you since we were like, ten?”

T'Challa's jaw doesn't drop. It absolutely doesn't.

”W’Kabi?”

”Erik,” Shuri says, jamming her screwdriver into something that probably shouldn’t have a screwdriver jammed into it. “You talk too much.”

Erik chuckles at that, and Jama shoves his head underneath Erik's palm for ear scratches. T'Challa absolutely needs to sit down. 

"Go talk to her," Erik says, shrugging his shoulders like it's easy. "She likes you."

"She likes me?"

"Erik," Shuri says. "You are going to break my brother."

"Yeah, she likes you," Erik continues. "She and Okoye are in the city right now. Just talk to her. And try not to freeze when you do it."

T'Challa nods, feeling - pretty dazed, if he's being honest with himself. Erik reaches out a hand, and T'Challa takes it, slapping their palms together and snapping once, then taking hands again and going in for a brief one armed hug. 

"I'll be seeing you two then," T'Challa says. 

Erik gives him a grin and a pat on the back; Shuri doesn't look up from her tinkering. 

Once T'Challa has gone, she throws her screwdriver at Erik's head. 

"You just threw him into the lion's den," she says, catching the screwdriver when Erik snatches it out of the air and tosses it back at her. "She's going to ask him about decolonilization."

"Please," Erik replies as Jama tries to tackle him to the floor. "She won't ask him about that until their second date."

* * *

T'Challa will find out later, when Erik and Nakia give him an entire presentation complete with notecards and statistics on why Wakanda should come out of its bubble, that Erik and Nakia were never an item. 

He only feels a little stupid. He's glad for it, because it means that he definitely has a chance with Nakia. He's also prematurely exhausted. Now that his cousin and his crush have his ear, they will never let it go. 

If he ever becomes king, he might just open the nation's borders just to stop the two of them from harping at him about it. 

He will find out much,  _much_ later, that wearing T'Challa down with spreadsheets and power points was only Plan B on an itemized alphabetized list in both the Latin and Xhosa alphabets. When he finds this out, he will be incredibly grateful that they only made it to Plan B, and not a step beyond. 

Plans C through Z all involved Shuri. 

**Author's Note:**

> yeah i threw the orishas in here just because i can!!!!! yoruba originated in nigeria and nigeria is …. p close to wakanda. probably. 
> 
> imo, because of the way that hanuman and baast are used in the film, it's clear that several different peoples came together to found wakanda, and i think that should be reflected in the wide religious diversity of the nation. not to mention lupita and the river province folk are all dressed in deep greens, teals, and yellows, which are all the principal colors of oshun. and i think the orishas need more love. the river provinces are the PERFECT place to place them, so there they are.
> 
> yes erik and nakia bond over assata shakur by quoting her at each other. they're nerds. 
> 
> i don't know if lions imprint on humans. i know they remember humans. but this is fiction and i can do whatever i want lmao
> 
> killmonger had some good points but nakia was the true revolutionary of black panther. i love erik but his gotdamn toxic masculinity can take a baaaaack seat. y'all really gonna let a man who's out here killing skinfolk in cold blood lead the revolution? i think the fuck NOT. 
> 
> nakia said everything killmonger said but she wasn't trying to kill anybody's babies. no revolution happens without bloodshed, but uhhhhhhhh we not killing peoples babies in this house. therefore, nakia is the only revolutionary i recognize. she's gonna make a damn fine queen.
> 
> thanks for reading!!! comments are food for starving artists xx


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